Chapter Eight: A Familiar Voice
Emily was cleaning spilled coffee from the counter when her phone vibrated.
The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.
She answered and heard a young girl whisper her name.
“Are you the waitress who helped Mr. Rook?”
Emily stopped moving.
“Yes,” she said.
“Who is this?”
“I’m Lucia,” the girl answered.
“My mother said you were with them.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re moving,” Lucia whispered.
“I think we’re on the highway.”
Emily looked through the window at Nadia.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No,” Lucia replied.
“But Mrs. Keene can’t breathe properly, and the driver says we aren’t allowed to stop.”
Emily forced herself to speak slowly.
“Can you see a road sign?”
“Not yet.”
“Can you tell me what the bus sounds like?”
Lucia hesitated.
“There’s a metal panel rattling by the back door,” she said.
“And the driver keeps talking to someone on a radio.”
Emily remembered the maintenance track.
She remembered the old weigh station and the private road that joined the highway farther north.
“When you see a sign, tell me exactly what it says,” she instructed.
Lucia was silent for several seconds.
Then she read out the name of a roadside market.
Emily knew it well.
The market stood only six miles north of the diner.
She waved Samuel and Nadia toward her.
“Lucia is on the phone,” she said.
Nadia reached for the device, but Emily held it between them so the girl could hear both voices.
“Mom?” Lucia whispered.
“I’m here,” Nadia answered.
“Listen to Emily and keep your phone hidden.
”
The bus engine changed pitch.
Lucia gasped.
“We’re turning,” she said.
Then she began to cry.
“There’s a gate across the road.”
Emily heard a man shout in the background.
The connection broke.
Chapter Nine: The Roadside Market
Deputy Kent returned to the diner less than ten minutes later.
She had received the information from the dispatcher while driving toward the freight yard.
“The bus was spotted near the market,” she told Nadia.
“Officers are moving into position.”
Samuel asked whether the passengers were still on board.
Kent shook her head.
“We haven’t confirmed that,” she said.
Grant came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee.
Nobody thanked him, and he did not appear to expect it.
He set the tray on the counter and stood back.
Emily noticed a dark mark on his sleeve.
“You burned yourself,” she said.
Grant looked down.
“I touched the grill,” he replied.
“You should put cold water on it,” Emily said.
He gave her a brief, embarrassed look.
“I suppose you still know how to take care of people,” he said.
Emily did not answer.
She was watching Nadia, who had begun pacing beside the windows.
A second phone call came from the dispatcher.
Kent listened, then motioned for silence.
“The bus has stopped,” she said.
“The driver is refusing to open the doors.”
Nadia covered her mouth.
“Are the children inside?” she asked.
“Officers can see passengers,” Kent replied.
“They are trying to establish contact without making the situation worse.”
Samuel sank slowly into a chair.
His injured knee had begun to swell beneath his trousers.
Emily brought him a glass of water.
“You should sit still,” she said.
“I have been sitting still for three days,” Samuel replied.
His voice carried more anger than she had heard from him before.
“People kept telling me to wait for someone with authority.”
“Deputy Kent is doing something,” Emily said.
“I know,” Samuel answered.
“That is why I am trying not to get in her way.”
